Baby Please Come Home
by RchHghr
Summary: Tonks just wants two things for Christmas. She may just have to settle for one.


My eyes close because my head is at rest atop the palm of my hand. My quill is left abandoned atop a stack of papers that should've been done at the end of November.

Should've been done; with should've being the key word.

Someone enters my personal space and my eyes open. I see that it's Alastor Moody so I sit up straight and stretch my arms over my head.

"Rufus Scrimgeour is looking for you," he says, "you're late for a meeting that started ten minutes ago."

"What?" My eyes scan the wall for a wall clock and my eyes bug out. Bugger! I guess I just didn't close my eyes for one minute- more like twenty.

My eyes go back to him. "He's going to chew my ass out, isn't he?"

Moody gives a nod. "The Michael Borodin project should've been closed three weeks ago."

My eyes go to the pile. A picture of the young man sits atop that pile. He smiles a beautiful smile. Good looking man too.

"I don't believe he is dead. Yes, I shot the spell at him, but he didn't turn into a pile of ash for crying out loud, it was a stunning spell. I think he faked his own death."

"It could've been a setup," he says, "either way the paperwork has to be in before the holiday; otherwise you're looking at suspended desk duty."

"I can't stoop down to their level, because that would put me at rock bottom. I'll nod to the rubbish that spills from his mouth and turn in the work. It is only two days before Christmas so I'll turn in blank pages, they won't look at it until after the holiday in which I'll have enough time to figure something out. Maybe." I straighten the already straight pile and shove my wand into the pocket of my jeans. I put on a fake smile for him hoping he'll say what I want, need, him to say but he just shakes his head. He hasn't seen Remus, and he hasn't heard from him either.

"Okay, we'll see you around I guess. If not have a happy holiday. Don't let me find you in a pile of snow hoped up on Fire Whisky." I wink and walk away. Everyone else has gone home for the day and I'm the only one left.

It's raining tonight. It should be snowing but it's raining in sheets. The wind has kicked up and my boots have already let puddles of water soak my socks through holes which were earned through hard work and sheer determination. I don't want to give up the case because the man is dangerous. He preys on children and has already murdered three. No matter what Scrimgeour has said he was not killed. I did not do a spell like that. Wouldn't I be on a one way train to Azkaban by now?

Of course that is covered up, and like Moody inquired an outside source "was" involved.

I should just throw this all to back of my mind but if that isn't taking up the space a door will be opened to what I don't want to think about: Remus.

I don't want to think about him and the letter he left on the bedside table. It's not existed now but the picture of it and the words on it are vivid in my mind. I try to block it out but it's like his voice reads it to me:

I can't stop thinking about what I could've done to you that night. I can't believe you followed me when I told you I never wanted you to see me that way. I don't want you to worry, I will never hurt you. I will remove me from the picture and you will be safe and happy. You will find someone to give you the love I never could. Please don't remember me like that.

"Stop it! Stop it!" I scream to erase to the voice of someone who isn't even hear. I don't want to hear those words. I don't care if he had hurt me. I love him to much to separate man from beast. It is who he is and he can't change it.

Besides, I would've fought back; fought back for us.

But he doesn't want it. Last year was amazing, this year will not be. I'll be alone on Christmas.

Just wish I wasn't.

Soggy and with wet, cold feet I enter the pub and order a fire whisky. I can drink tonight. Tomorrow is a half day of work and then it's a recess for the holiday. After the holiday life will go on with a new case and the same old people who sweet too much dust under the rug. The whole Ministry should be ashamed of themselves. People like The Order have to clean up their dirty work and they just don't know it.

I wonder if Remus is still doing that. I wonder if he Is cold and does he know where he is? Is he with people who care about him?

That's me… Wish he'd understand that.

My eyes scan the bar. It's pretty quiet in here. I guess this is the place where Holiday Spirit comes to die. It's not bustling and it's not sparse. I don't recognize a person for company so I take my own table and sip my drink. It's strong as always but if it cannot clear my mind before fogging it up then what would be the point of drinking it?

Once again my chin is in the palm of my hand. Conversation from the man at the table behind me doesn't bring any interest to me, even though it is one sided. He's talking to the wall. Unless someone is there that I cannot see he could be talking to a fly for all I know.

The bartender gives me a nod when my eyes pass him. I smashed through a window here once on chase of a man I went to school with. A Slytherin. What can you expect from them?

I still caught him.

So what's stopping me from catching this man?

I finish my Fire Whisky as quick as possible and drop money on the table and leave the pub; the warm, relaxed, yet depressed pub. I go back to the place where he was last seen. The pile of ash is gone. I guess they bottled it up with a fake label.

The dark of night and its cold. The rain has stopped, but the puddles remain. I step in them all but it doesn't mean much because my socks are already wet. My feet are already cold. Adeline pumps through my system. Something has to give way in figuring out where this man went.

The structure is abandon so I am not trespassing. There's no door. The wood smells soggy and the furniture is trashed. Dust mixed with water from the roof and it's just disgusting. My boots pick up the film and it sticks there.

I don't know who lived here. They haven't for a long time. They probably packed up important items in the middle of the night and took to the trees to find somewhere better. Maybe they just knew that their only child was a target to man who lost his mind.

Nothing is here. Nothing important. There isn't a trace to give me any idea where this man went. No spell turned anything alight. Dark Wizards sell their souls to cover their tracks, and when their soul is gone they have nothing left.

I have family like that. Sooner or later they are welcomed into a dark and damp room where they have three walls to keep them safe from….themselves.

I take to the trees through the back door that hangs on one hinge. The doorknob is slimy. I wipe it on my jeans.

The air chills me to the bone. The rains brought in colder temperatures. If this keeps up ice will form. Im clumsy on flat ground, ice makes me twice as clumsy and sooner or later I land on my face.

But not this time. A fire through the trees catches my eyes. A campfire in a perfect pit lined by rocks. A man sits close by. Hes hooded. His big boots verify his gender, but the hood hides his identity. I know it's not the family that once lived here. It has to be him, and if not I've caused trouble for this stranger for nothing.

I creep, but it's hard to creep when you slosh and splash through puddles of mud and wild life. They of course turn in my direction. My wand raises just as theirs do, but I'm faster. His wand flies out of his hand. An innocent man would question a stranger and not attack.

I go into action as they scramble into action. This time their tricks won't work for them. I attack for those children he killed. They never deserved it. A mother's pain is something I can never bare to see. My mother feels pain for the family that abandoned her, and that burns my heart. I know if she lost me she'd be broken hearted.

In close facility I grab the wand right out of his hand and kick him to the ground. Weakened from my attacks he doesn't get up. With a spell to stun him, that works this time, he is unable to move. With the hood long gone blown away I see the handsome face that must've allured attraction to him. Now, all I see is a sick man who will never redeem himself.

"You can't escape this time," I sneer down at him. "Breaking mother's hearts, now everyone will have a piece of mind knowing you will never kill again."

He crackles. "I killed my own."

I kick him; just for my own mother.

I can finish my paperwork now. I can have a happy holiday knowing that he will not harm. I can rub it in his face that I have accomplished my task when they wanted to cover up a murderer who was never caught. I can enjoy a quiet holiday with the one I-

He isn't here. He left not caring that I am left in pain. I wish he would just come home. I want to copy last year's holiday with him and a warm fire. I want to laugh with a stupor from drunken bliss.

I want….

I just want him to come home.

After everything is done I go back to the pub I first started out in and order another Fire Whisky. I take the same table and drink my drink. I can't help the tears that come from eyes. I miss my baby. I miss him so much.

Nobody cares that I am crying. They all have their own problems here. The decorations don't mean anything here. The holiday means nothing because they may also not have what they want this holiday season.


End file.
